


You are in Control, I Disappear

by HanukoYoukai



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Michelle Jones, Aged-Up Peter Parker, BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Bondage, But it's really low key I'm just tagging to be safe, But this is also low-key, Clothed Sex, Cock Slapping, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom!Michelle, Don't Judge Me, Edgeplay, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Kthxbai, Light BDSM, MJ is a beautiful woman, NSFW, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Pantie kink, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Scent Kink, Swearing, They're in college now and live on their own., adults doing adult things, and she's really sexy as a dom what can I say, sub!peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 18:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai
Summary: “You look delicious,” Peter blushed as he stood in front of her, avoiding her gaze as she let her eyes travel from his pecs to his gorgeous abs. She stepped forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Ah-ah-ah. Do you have any idea how good you look?” Peter blushed more and smiled, showing his pretty white teeth. “God, I just want to eat you.”





	You are in Control, I Disappear

**Author's Note:**

> Uh....
> 
> This was fun. 
> 
> Kinks ahoy.
> 
> Have fun reading. I won't judge. Obviously. ;-)
> 
> Title is from _California Rain_ by The Rescues.

Michelle grabbed her hair and tied it behind her in a tight ponytail, pulling most of it away from her face. A few messy strands escaped the elastic band, but she paid them no mind. She liked the loose tendrils better, anyway.

Peter sat on a wooden chair facing her couch, staring at the floor. Her coffee table had been moved to the middle of the loft, and the shades were drawn on the windows. Candles and low lamps were lit throughout the space, giving it a dim, warm feel, and the skylight above them allowed the dark, starlit sky a chance to peek into her apartment. Occasionally, his deep brown eyes would flash upwards to glance at her, before returning to the wood beneath his feet. Michelle smiled a little, watching him as he tried so _hard_ to keep still. She knew that was the most difficult part for him. He was fidgety by nature. He had so much pent up energy and was constantly restless. Constantly doing. Constantly _thinking. _The point of today was to just make him stop for a minute. She stretched her arms high over her head, pulling her loose, purple tank up her body slightly. The movement was noticed quickly by Peter, broke his gaze from the floor so his eyes could track the hem of her shirt as it lifted upward over her bare thighs. She smirked at the attention.

“What are the rules, today?” she asked, softly. Peter looked up at her and smiled shyly. Her heart fluttered at the upturned corners of his mouth and the littlest crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Um… I need to tell you when I’m close, and I can’t come before you tell me to,” he replied, eyes earnest. Today would be about Peter trusting Michelle to know what he needed, and Peter giving control over to Michelle in a way he hadn’t yet. It was about letting go completely and trusting her to catch him when he did.

“Good job,” she nodded. Peter preened at the praise. “What’s your safeword?”

Peter straightened up a little before he answered. “Mercy.”

_“Why Mercy?” she asked with a smile as she curled into him on his twin bed while he jotted notes in the margins of his textbook, enjoying this rare moment of privacy while Ned was out of his dorm._

_Peter highlighted a bit of text before he chose to answer. “I don’t know, MJ. It just kind of works for me? It gets the point across and then you know to take care of me after, right?” _

“Very good. Are you ready?”

Peter took a breath through his nose and grinned, nodding. “Yes, Miss Jones.”

Michelle felt a shiver run down her back at the address. “Good. Stand up.” Peter stood and left his arms hanging at his sides, waiting for her next direction. She walked forward and thumbed the collar of his shirt. He was dressed nicely—having just come from work—in a blue button down and khaki slacks. His shoes and socks were already off and placed by the door. Slowly she trailed her hands to the buttons of his shirt, leisurely undoing them one by one. When she looked at Peter’s face, she could see he was staring resolutely over her shoulder, trying to be still and uninfluenced. She smiled again as she reached the last button, letting his shirt hang open. Once his chest was exposed to her, she gradually dragged her fingertips from his collarbones to the waistline of his pants. He didn’t even twitch. She let out a little sigh, pleased with his self-control today. She took a step back and folded her arms across her chest. “Take off your pants.” Peter complied, unhurriedly undoing his belt buckle and fly before pulling his slacks down his well-toned thighs and revealing a pair of black boxer-briefs. He slid out of his pants, and after a moment’s hesitation, Peter folded the slacks and set them on the floor beside the chair. Michelle nodded in approval at both the action and the sight before her. It was useless to ask him to turn right now. That shirt—a nice fit when buttoned—hid all the strong, corded muscles of his back when it hung loosely off his shoulders like it did now, but he made too pretty of a picture for her to have him take it off.

“You look delicious,” Peter blushed as he stood in front of her, avoiding her gaze as she let her eyes travel from his pecs to his gorgeous abs. She stepped forward and grabbed his chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Ah-ah-ah. Do you have any idea how good you look?” Peter blushed more and smiled, showing his pretty white teeth. “God, I just want to eat you,” she growled invading his space and breathing against his neck and ear. Peter was so sensitive to touch, and if she wound him up just right, he would be putty before he knew what was happening. She ran her tongue just behind his ear and felt him twitch toward her at the contact. “Keep still,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms under his shirt so her hands could rest on the warm, bare skin of his back. Peter took slow, measured breaths, keeping his arms at his sides as Michelle explored the muscles of his back. She dragged her hands down from his shoulders to his hipbones, applying firm pressure as she went. Finally they rested over his ass, still outside his underwear. She gave each cheek a firm squeeze before letting go and stepping away. Peter’s pupils were slightly dilated, but beyond that there was no outward sign that he was affected by her words and contact. Even the blush had been quelled.

“Sit back down,” she said, nodding to the chair behind Peter. Peter sat quickly, placing his hands on his knees, back straight and legs rigid like he was back in band. She grinned and shook her head, flopping down on the couch behind her. “Relax a little, tiger.” Peter cocked his head to the side before slowly reclining against the back of the chair. His hands fell from his knees to his sides as he awaited further instruction. His legs barely moved, though. Michelle stretched her leg forward and nudged her foot between his knees, urging them to part. After a moment he allowed them to fall open, and Michelle saw how the fabric of his underwear tented a bit. “I see you’re starting to get a little excited?” Peter blushed and looked down at his forming erection before looking back up at her. The man was so easily embarrassed. Michelle was charmed by it right from the start. “Touch yourself.”

Peter held still for another second, processing her order before reaching up and grabbing the elastic waist of his underwear. “No,” she said as he lifted his hips to drag the garment off. He paused, hips still raised and hands still gripping the waistline. “I didn’t say take them off,” she smirked, leaning back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. Peter relaxed back into his seat and rested his hands against his knees, thinking for a moment. She raised her eyebrow, which prompted him to move one hand up to his neck and collarbone, caressing the skin there. Slowly that hand worked its way to his chest as the other slid from his thigh to rub over the now obvious bulge in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as the first hand found his nipple and brushed against it slightly. He opened his eyes and stared at her with a little smirk of his own as he moved his hands over his skin, getting off on putting on a little show for her. She merely raised an eyebrow and uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide enough for Peter to catch a glimpse of her underwear. His hands stilled for a moment as she dragged her shirt up—letting him see the pink satin fabric—before he moved again, this time a little more earnest. His cockhead was starting to poke out of the waistband of his underwear, and he began to rub his thumb over it on each pass.

Michelle relaxed and reached to the end table beside her, grabbing a glass of sparkling water and sipping it, watching Peter pleasure himself. Eventually his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back as he gave into the sensation of his own hands. She stood, but Peter wasn’t paying attention, biting his lip and panting through his nose as his hand worked his clothed erection. The other hand stopped moving a minute ago and dangled somewhat uselessly at his side. Michelle stepped forward, gripping his wrist and causing it to still. Peter’s eyes snapped open to see Michelle looming over him. She was certain the photographer in him would appreciate the imagery she presented, her face and hair framed by the stars of the night sky above them. “That’s enough for now,” she said, letting go of his wrist. Peter drew in a deep breath before letting that hand hang down as well. Michelle took a step back and walked around her partner, taking in the vision before her. His abs were taut, and perspiration started to form on his pecs. He was slouched back in the armless chair, gaze still upward to focus on the stars. His chest moved slowly with each heavy breath he drew as he tried to regain his composure.

Michelle licked her lips. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” she said as she stepped away and to her bedroom. Peter didn’t make a sound, not even to ask where she was going. She smiled as she crossed the threshold and moved to her bed, reaching underneath to pull out a black box. She opened it and pulled out some soft nylon ropes, twisted together neatly and ready to be used along with her EMT shears. After some consideration, she decided to pull out a blindfold as well. Finally she grabbed a bottle of lube before replacing the box and making her way back to Peter. He still hadn’t moved from his position, following her orders so beautifully that she felt some drops of slick dripping down her walls. God, she just wanted to ride him.

“Will you sit up for me, tiger?” she asked as she dropped her acquired items on the couch. Peter gradually pulled himself out of his slouch, resting his hands on his knees again. He cast his eyes over the items she brought, then back to her, awaiting instruction. “Put your wrists together behind your back and lean forward.” Peter did so, waiting while she walked around him with the rope in her hands. She carefully wrapped the cord around his wrists, tugging for tightness as she tied the knots. “Wiggle your fingers?” he did so with ease. “Any numbness or tingling?” He shook his head. “You let me know the second that changes.” He nodded, eagerly. Grabbing his shoulder, she pulled him back so he could sit upright again.

“Lift your hips,” she ordered. Peter easily complied, giving her plenty of room to slide off his underwear. His cock jumped free as soon as the garment slid down his thighs and she grinned wolfishly at the sight. _Fuck,_ she thought once his legs were cleared of the boxer-briefs. Having Peter bound to this chair, his erection almost standing straight made her just want to grind against him until they both came.

She could control herself.

The other plan would be more fun, anyway.

She turned back to the couch and grabbed another length of rope before turning back to Peter. She had been debating for days how she wanted to tie him, and she decided she didn’t want him to be able to move if she could help it. She wrapped the rope around the back of the chair, then around his elbows, effectively trapping his arms to the seat. Then she pulled two more lengths of rope and tied each of his calves to the legs of the chair. After her last knot was secured, she picked up the blindfold and showed it to Peter. “Do you want this today, or would you rather be able to see?”

“Can you choose, Miss Jones?” She walked forward and pulled the soft blindfold over his eyes and head, petting his dark hair as she adjusted the mask to fully cover his eyes.

“I think we’ll have it on, for now.” After he was tied and blinded, she grabbed the lubricant and popped the lid open causing Peter to twitch as she kneeled beside him. She wondered if his reaction was because of how loud it must seem to his enhanced hearing, of if he was just anxious over what was to come. She squeezed a small dollop the size of a pea into her hand, then set the bottle down before rubbing both hands together, picking up the fruity scent of artificial strawberry, knowing Peter noticed it as well. Once both her hands were lightly coated, she reached out with one hand, making a semi-loose fist that hovered over Peter’s cock. Slowly she brought her fist down around his erection, making him inhale sharply through his nose. She stroked up and down his shaft in a relaxed and leisurely way, down to the base then up past and over the head, then back down again. She watched his face as her fist moved and caught his tongue darting over his lips as she rubbed him. She placed her other hand under his balls then, caressing and gently squeezing them while she continued to stroke him. He smiled once he felt the second touch, leaning his head back and allowing her to work.

She continued in this vein for some time, pausing only to put new lube on her hands as she felt it start to thin out. The only sounds that could be heard in her apartment were the wet squelch of her hands working his cock and his heavy breathing. After several minutes of the constant attention, Peter twitched his shoulders, pulling against his bonds. Michelle smiled a little and picked up speed, watching Peter jerk his hips minutely. The pants started to turn to breathy, quiet moans that he couldn’t seem to control.

“Miss Jones… Miss Jones I want to come,” he said quietly. She stilled her hands and stopped touching him, letting out a tsk. “Please?” his tone had a pretty begging quality to it that Michelle couldn’t help but enjoy.

“It’s not time yet,” she responded. Peter slouched forward a little, dejection clear in his body language. She smiled as she slowly resumed rubbing his cock. Peter took a deep breath before leaning back in the chair again. “Besides, this feels good, doesn’t it?” He nodded, biting his lip. “Kind of like scratching an itch, right? Sometimes you just need to go a little harder,” she squeezed a little tighter, adding more pressure, “and a little faster,” her strokes picked up speed and Peter let out a low groan, “Do you like this baby? You like it when I get you close?” Peter pressed his hips upward, trying to follow her hand and letting out tiny, precious grunts as she stroked him. She released him again, and he whined a little, taking a minute to settle back down.

“Y-yes, Miss Jones. I like it,” Peter moaned out as Michelle recoated her hands. She leaned forward a little, then pressed her thumbs into the v of his hips, massaging the skin there. “It’s so good, it feels so good,” he babbled a little as she started to massage his stomach before moving down to his thighs. Peter groaned at the hard press against the muscle. Michelle removed her hands again, pausing and allowing Peter to properly regain himself. His head hung down, still cocked slightly in her direction, as if he was trying to listen for her next move. She brought a hand up to his chest to play with his nipple, letting her slick fingers tease against it. His chest flushed as she toyed with him and he opened his mouth a little at the feeling. His breathing became harsh again.

“I like it too,” she murmured, stroking his cock once again. She pinched his nipple sharply before she resumed caressing it. Peter’s head dropped down toward his chest. “I like playing with your thick cock,” she twisted her hand around the head before dropping it back down the shaft. “I like how it feels. Especially when it’s slicked up like this,” she dropped the other hand back down to rub against his sac and he whimpered, curling his toes. “It makes me wet, just thinking about how it would feel inside my tight, little cunt.”

“Oh! Oh fuck,” Peter’s hips jumped up before he pressed himself back into the chair. He let out a long moan and his head fell back. Her hand once again held tighter and thrust faster. She watched the flush on his cheeks crawl down his neck. His chest heaved with little gasps as he tried to control himself. “Oh, oh ma’am, _ma’am _I’m gonna come—”

She pulled her hands away, and Peter jerked hard enough to shift the chair as he whined, long and hard at the sudden loss of sensation. “No, no _come on—_”

“I decide when you come,” she said firmly, slapping his dick hard enough so it bounced against his stomach. He gritted his teeth and tensed a little as she lightly slapped it again before raising herself fully on her knees. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he gasped out as she started to massage his legs again. She hummed a little as rubbed his shuddering stomach muscles, up to his pecs then shoulders, making his skin glow in the candlelight. After she reached as high as she could she dragged her hands back down to play with his nipples again. Peter’s head fell back and his jaw hung open, closing only to swallow. He let out a sharp yell when she pinched them roughly and sagged when she stopped touching altogether. She stared him, smiling widely when she saw his dick twitch. She licked her lips and placed her hands on his knees, leaning forward.

“Good boy,” she whispered, kissing the tip. He jerked forward in surprise and she laughed. “I told you that you looked delicious. I think I should have a taste now,” she said before giving a slow lick around the head of his cock. Peter gasped, tilting his head down as if he was trying to watch her through the blindfold. She mouthed down the hard flesh, sliding her tongue against the vein on the underside. Peter was impossibly still as she worked him with her mouth. When she finally swallowed him, a high keen left his throat. She lifted her eyes to see his head tilted back again, chest heaving.

“Thank—_ohfuck_—thank you, Miss Jones,” he panted. Michelle could see the muscles in his arms flexing. She wrapped one of her hands around the base of his cock as she slid her head back and forth, enjoying his pleased noises. She pulled back and licked into his slit, tasting his salty-bitter precum mixed with artificial strawberry, before sinking her mouth on him again. She pressed forward and back, allowing the tip of his cock tickle the back of her throat, and occasionally scraping the underside of his cock with just a hint of pressure from her teeth. Her mouth was stretched a little obscenely as she swallowed around him. Peter yelped and grunted and panted, encouraging Michelle to move faster, to flick her tongue and play with his balls again. She eased away from him and pressed her tongue against the spongey head of his dick, licking and sucking away at it. She knew Peter was especially sensitive here, and she relished in the gasp he delivered at her attention. “Ma’am,” Peter gasped again as she continued to swallow around him. “Miss Jones!”

Michelle pulled back and left him exposed to the air. Peter moaned and twitched. Michelle smiled at the jerking cock before her. She looked up to see Peter curled in on himself as far as he could with the bindings. His stomach muscles were taut, and a grimace took over his mouth as he fought for control. After several seconds he relaxed back, panting. His dick was flushed a dark red and stood up away from his body. She stood and stretched her legs and back, raising her arms over her head.

She smiled, staring at the picture he made as she lubricated her hands again. She could leave if she wanted. She could just tell him to sit tight while she went to her room to read or catch up on homework or maybe even masturbate while he was tied to this chair. She could sit on the couch across from him, sipping water and sketching him. She could take a bath and he wouldn’t move. He could move. He could break those ties without much effort. They both knew that.

He wouldn’t though. He would sit there—most likely impatiently, moaning and whining about it—and wait for her to be ready to start again. He would wait as long as he could.

He _wanted_ to be good for her.

He _was_ good for her.

“You’re such a good boy,” she whispered, straddling his legs and listening to his breathing hitch. She settled over him, his cock trapped between her pelvis and his stomach. “sitting there, just taking it.” Peter rested his forehead against her collarbone. She reached her hand down between them and grasped his dick firmly, slowly sliding her fist up and down between them. Peter whimpered. “You’re a good boy, Peter. You’re so good and wonderful and perfect,” Peter moaned again, pulling his head back to rest his neck against the back of the chair. Michelle leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his neck. “So good for me,” she mumbled, knowing he would hear every word clear as a bell as she licked and mouthed his neck. Peter wriggled his hips, whimpering more pronounced as she stripped his cock and worked her tongue against the dip in his collar. His head rolled to the side to give her better access, and she draped herself further over him, bringing her free hand to grasp his hair tightly. “Aren’t you a good boy, Peter?”

“Yes… yes Miss Jones, I am. I’m a good boy,” he whimpered, rolling his hips into her hand.

“You deserve this, don’t you?” Peter moaned and nodded a little, catching his breath. “Don’t you, Peter? Don’t you think you deserve to come?”

“Oh yes! Yes, _please_ Miss Jones. I’ve been good. Please—I want—_please make me come. Please make me come, make me come—_” he babbled, his mouth forming a grin. Pressed against him like this, Michelle could feel his stomach muscles tightening in the wave of an oncoming orgasm.

“You want to come?” She asked and he moaned again so desperately for a moment Michelle thought he might cry.

“Yes, _please—_”

Michelle grinned wickedly, tightening her grip and moving her hand even faster, feeling him begin to twitch in her hand. “Then come,” she said before biting his neck sharply. Peter gasped as he jerked harshly in the chair, before groaning deeply. Michelle felt him pulsing as wetness coated her fingers.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he moaned, but she kept biting down, kept stroking relentlessly as his groan turned to a sharp whine. “_Too much,_ Miss Jones—” he gasped and twisted away as she released his neck. She pulled harder at his hair to keep him still.

“I think there’s more here,” she said with a smirk. “I think you have another one in you,” Peter moaned again, going boneless before tensing up. “I can still feel you pulsing,” she whispered, sliding her hand faster. “Give it all to me, Peter. Be a good boy and give me more.” Peter gasped sharply and was suddenly tight against her once more as he spilled over her hand again. She gently stroked him through the aftershocks as he slumped back against the chair panting as if he had run a marathon. She gave his dick one last gentle squeeze as she withdrew from him. She brought up her hand that was covered in fluids and rubbed it against his mouth. He cleaned her palm and fingers with his tongue as she smeared his cum on his lips. “Good boy.”

“Thank you, Miss Jones,” he whispered as she stood up. She gently thumbed the blindfold. Her fingers rested against his cheek and the fabric, silently asking him what he needed. After a few heartbeats he nodded, and she slipped her fingers under and gently pulled it off his face. Peter stared at the skylight with blown pupils as she started loosening his bonds around his legs. After the ropes were off, she massaged his legs, encouraging his blood flow to return to normal. She moved behind him, quickly releasing his arms and rubbing them. Peter was slack for a few minutes.

“Miss Jones,” he asked quietly. Michelle stood over him and he lazily rolled his head to look at her, dopey smile in place. Michelle smiled and nodded for him to continue. “Can I eat you out?” She moved to the couch and sat down, crossing her legs. Peter sat up and followed her with his eyes, eagerly. She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees and stared at Peter’s hopeful expression as she waited. She smirked a little as he began to squirm before stilling himself. She didn’t have to wait long.

“I just mean you made me feel _so good,_ so I wanted you to feel good? I really, really want to get you off because it’s amazing and you’re amazing and that was amazing. And you were talking about how I m-made you wet,” he blushed eyes darting away briefly before coming back to her, “and all I can think about is tasting you. And I love the way you taste so I really, really want to go down on you, especially because I’ve been able to smell it—” she raised an eyebrow and he cut himself off and looked to the floor, blush deepening. She didn’t know he was able to smell her when she was aroused, not unless his face was pressed right against her. He tensed, as he often did when he thought his powers made him too odd for her. His brows were furrowed and after a minute he shut his eyes, suddenly shy.

She cleared her throat. Peter immediately looked at her, wide brown eyes begging her to say something. She smiled and reclined, slowly uncrossing her legs so her thighs could fall open. Peter’s eyes widened more as his mouth dropped open, staring at her crotch. The pink panties she had were very damp, to the point where she knew he could see the discoloration. Peter glanced up at her face again.

“Come here,” she said. Peter slid to the floor and crawled forward, settling between her legs. His hand rested against the waistband of her underwear as he awaited further instruction. Michelle smiled, watching him smile shyly in return. “You like my smell?” she asked. His blush deepened, but his eyes went dark as he gave a small nod. “Well go on, then,” she said, carding her fingers through his hair. “I bet it’s better up close.”

Peter pressed forward, being guided by pressure from her hand until he was pressed against her vulva. She knew he could feel the dampness of her satin underwear and listened as he breathed her in. Her walls twitched slightly at the sensation of his face gently rubbing against her. The sound of him inhaling her made her heady. “Do you like it?” she asked. Peter nodded excitedly in response. “You want to taste it?”

Peter flicked his brown eyes up to her and nodded again, his mouth open against her panties and his nose pressed against her clit. “Please, Miss Jones?” She shuddered a little as his lips and tongue flexed reflexively against the cloth. She lifted her foot and pressed it against his shoulder, releasing his hair. Peter pulled back slightly, hands still on her underwear. She brought her own hands down to his to encourage his fingers to dip inside the waistband at her hips, then pushed him back with her foot. He leaned back, dragging the underwear off as he went. He set the garment on the floor, waiting for further instruction.

She held him away with her foot, leg extended. He held still, not breaking his gaze away from her eyes. She smiled as she dragged her toes down his chest and stomach. Peter drew in a shaky breath but otherwise remained still. She licked her lips.

“You want to pleasure me here? You want to eat my cunt?”

“Oh yes, please ma’am—”

Michele smirked. “How can I say no to something so pretty?” she asked, widening her thighs. Peter pressed his face forward, kissing her labia. His tongue slipped out against her slit occasionally, making her gasp.

“Oh you’re a fucking tease, aren’t you? And here I thought you were a good boy,” she hissed, grabbing the back of his head. Peter moaned as she tugged his curls. “Lick my clit, don’t fuck around,” she snarled, gasping as he flicked his tongue right where she wanted it. “Fuck, yes, that’s it,” she moaned, rubbing against his mouth. His hands were pressed against her pelvis, so close to where she wanted them.

“Put your fingers in, come on,” she said, pulling tighter on his hair. After a moment she felt two fingers pressed against her entrance before slowly pushing in. “Oh yes, that’s good, Peter. So good,” she felt another wave of slick coat her walls and his fingers, causing him to move them quicker and deeper. “Fuck, you _would_ get off on my smell,” she said, pressing into his hand. “Next time, I’m gonna tie you to the bed and gag you with my fucking panties, then I’m gonna ride you until I’m done. I’m gonna _fuck_ you until I’m done, whether you come or not,” she groaned, “and you’re not gonna come until I say so.” Peter moaned, sending little vibrations from his lips to hers, crooking his fingers to rub against that spongey place inside. She shuddered, suddenly struck with the picture of Peter, spread-eagled and restrained on her bed with her red lace panties shoved in his mouth and tears in his eyes. The image sent her over with a long moan. She gripped Peter’s hair tighter as she crested the wave, not loosening her hand until the pulses settled. Peter’s tongue and fingers started to slow, working her gently through her orgasm. Once she settled, she gripped his wrist, tugging it away from her body. With one last curl of his tongue he pulled away, sliding his fingers out and resting his head on her thigh. She basked in the afterglow, idly running her fingers through Peter’s curls.

Peter turned his face and nuzzled the inside of her thigh, pressing small, worshipful kisses on the skin there. She sighed, stretching, before she tugged him up gently by his hair. Peter went willingly, crawling up the length of her body until he was settled beside her, head resting on her breast.

“That was amazing,” Peter whispered, sighing as she stroked the back of his head.

Michelle hummed, moving her fingers to his chin so she could tilt his head up. He offered her a lazy grin, and she could see the slick shine of their cum on his face. She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, and he pulled himself up her body to kiss her. She sighed into it, tasting them on his mouth. He pulled away, looking down at her in wonder. She flushed a little, preening under his gaze. She slid back into the corner of the couch to give him room to lay fully beside her—head on her chest and hands wrapped around her hips in a loose hug. She pulled the afghan down onto them, letting Peter snuggle further into her.

“I love you,” she said, combing her fingers through his hair. Peter let out a sigh and nuzzled against her.

“Love you too, MJ,” he murmured into her skin before he drifted off, warm and content. Michelle smiled as she stroked his hair, closing her eyes as she drifted off as well, languid and relaxed. 

For now, they would rest. Later, she had new plans to explore. 

**Author's Note:**

> I want there to be more FemDom Michelle, guys. 
> 
> She's gorgeous. She's giving. She's got an iron will. 
> 
> And she would take such good care of our boi, omg. 
> 
> So, hope you enjoyed. ;-)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos. I'm set up to take anonymous comments too, if you were wondering. 
> 
> Follow me [@hanuko.](https://hanuko.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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